Les Wizardables
by always-a-time
Summary: Notorious murderer Sirius Black has just been released from Azkaban for a crime he did not commit by his former childhood enemy, prison guard Severus Snape. Framed with the attempted murders of Peter Pettigrew and James Potter, Sirius Black is in danger in more ways than one when he is when he is finally released back into the Wizarding World. (FULL SUMMARY INSIDE)
1. Introduction

**LES WIZARDABLES:  
**_a Harry Potter and Les Miserables crossover fanfiction_

**Title:** Les Wizardables  
**Fandom:** Les Miserables, Harry Potter  
**Characters/Pairing: **James/Lily, Ron/Hermione, unrequited Ginny/Harry and Harry/Draco  
**Rating: **PG-13 (subject to change)

* * *

**THE INTRODUCTION**

**Les Wizardables** is a _Harry Potter_ and _Les Miserables_ cross-over fanfiction. The basis of the plot is essentially the same, the only exception being all of the Les Mis characters have been replaced with Harry Potter counterparts of my choosing as well as added plot twists. So look for HP overtones as we go through this!

I'm not exactly sure how far I'm going to go with this - so far I've plotted out and written (on paper) many of the major scenes from the movie and the musical. If I get a good audience and feedback, I may go back and flesh out the story a bit more.

The purpose of this page is to mainly outline the plot, the characters and their backstories. This is meant to be a sort-of long term project that will most likely be on hiatus for varying periods as I juggle a few other things (school most likely, as well as updating my other fanfics).

* * *

**THE CHARACTERS**

Alright, so far here are the character transplants I've performed. Keep in mind that many of the relationships have been thoroughly messed from Harry Potter canon in order to fit with my plot. **Hermione, not Harry, is James and Lily's child. Ginny is in love with Harry, and she is still Ron's sister. All of Les Amis attended Beauxbatons, not Hogwarts, with the exception of Harry. **Many of the characters are not set as of yet.

**Main Characters**

_Valjean!_Sirius  
_Javert!_Snape  
_Fantine!_Lily  
_Tholomyès!_James  
_Thénardier!_Peter  
_Cosette!_Hermione  
_Éponine!_Ginny  
_Marius!_Ron  
_Enjolras!_Draco  
_Grantaire!_Harry

**Minor Characters**

_Bishop!_Dumbledore  
_Gavroche!_Creevey Brothers  
_Combeferre!_Percy  
_Courfeyrac!_Weasley Twins  
_Feuilly!_Viktor  
_Bousset!_Cedric  
_Bahorel!_Seamus  
_Joly!_  
_Jehan!_

* * *

**THE PLOT**

We begin in England, 1815. Notorious murderer **Sirius Black** has just been released from Azkaban on parole after serving 19 years for a crime he did not commit by his former childhood enemy, prison guard **Severus Snape**. Framed with the murder of **Peter Pettigrew, **the attempted murders of **James Potter**, as well as accused of being in league with Dark Wizard **Tom Riddle**, Sirius Black is in danger in more ways than one when he is finally released back into the Wizarding World. With the help of **Albus Dumbledore**, he is able to break parole and escape to France, with two silver candlesticks and a rather peculiar wand, where he plans to begin a new life as the Muggle mayor of a town called Montreuil-sur-Mer.

All the while, Muggle woman **Lily Granger** has raised her daughter (who was indeed born out of wedlock) single-handedly for six years after the death of her lover, renowned noblewizard James Potter. While Lily is not fully aware of the Wizarding World, she fears for her safety as well as **Hermione**'s. Dumbledore has also sent the pair of them to France for their own protection against Tom Riddle. Realizing that she will not be able to find steady work, she leaves Hermione in the care of the kindly **Weasley** family, where Hermione will keep company with a young and lonely **Ginny Weasley** while her brothers attend an obscure boarding school called '_Beauxbatons_'. Lily finds work in Montreuil-sur-Mer, where she earns the emnity of her co-workers because she put distance between them, since she cannot reveal that she has a child, which is generally frowned upon. Eventually, the secret gets out and Lily is fired from her job.

Auror Snape has been assigned to protect Montreuil-sur-Mer from the forces of Voldemort. Upon meeting the town Mayor, who is of course Sirius Black, Snape realizes the similarities between the esteemed Muggle government official and the escaped convict. Convinced of the fact but with no proof, Snape is unable to do anything.

Cast out of her lodgings because she is unable to pay her rent, Lily finds herself wandering the streets alone. After being attacked by a Death Eater, she is sent to a magical hospital, but her wounds - which were inflicted by Dark Magic - are beyond the healing capabilities of the medi-witches and wizards. Sirius rushes to her deathbed and promises to watch over Hermione for her. Snape attempts to arrest Sirius, and the two engage in a duel before Sirius escapes to Montfermeil to fetch Hermione.

Sirius moves Hermione to Paris, and things settle down for a while, but an appearance by Albus Dumbledore at their doorstep may just change everything ...


	2. Prologue

**THE PROLOGUE  
**_A man named Sirius Black._

* * *

_-England, 1801-_**  
**

Ragged filth the walls; ragged filth the man. Emancipated and covered in grime already, his muttering fills the small cell and echoes around the room. The stream of words continues as he paces with a manic gleam in his dark grey eyes. Back and forth, he covers the length of the room in seconds, spinning back as he changes directions.

Minutes pass.

Hours pass.

The miniature hourglass that keeps time in the wall of his cell flips over and begins again as midnight strikes. The pacing continues, and the man is relentless in his murderous gaze and sharp-tongued words. He raises his head to glance out the tiny barred window. He screams, then, because he has lost everything today, not only fourteen more years of his life, but his three of his best friends. He screams

Eventually, he gives up, and collapses on the cot, which is also ragged and filthy. They all give up in the end in this place.

His eyes close - wearily - and he remembers why he is here in the first place.

* * *

Sirius Black was running - was hunting - for Peter Pettigrew. He knew where the snivelling coward would be, had known who he would be with. Sirius knows Peter is the one to blame, the one who is truly worthy of James Potter's disgust and mistrust. He knows Peter is responsible for his five years of torment in Azkaban. He knows Peter set him up to take the fall when the information was leaked to the Dark Lord of their whereabouts.

He reaches James' doorstep at nightfall - wand drawn - and he knocks once. Nostalgia washes over him as he touches the door. He remembers how many nights he had spent here, talking late with James about the Holyhead Harpies and eating endless amounts of Chocolate Frogs with Remus on rainy afternoons.

The face that answers the knock is tight and unforgiving. "Clear out of here, Black. You're not welcome anymore." James' face is stiff, his eyes hard beneath the glass spectacles.

"Please," Sirius croaks, "let me explain! I never betrayed you - I would never -"

"Who is it?" The voice that calls from inside is high and wheezy. Remembering why he came, Sirius takes a moment to fight down the burning outrage at the fact that Pettigrew is still welcome in the Potter home after everything he did.

"Pettigrew," Sirius spits the name out like a curse. "He framed me, James, you have to believe me - he's a dirty, lying traitor who sold us to Voldemort!"

"James?" Another voice - one Sirius does not recognize, a female one.

"Lily, go upstairs," James says sharply, not turning away from Sirius or his wand. "Now." There is no room for argument. The sounds of footsteps retreat upstairs huffily.

"James, what-" Peter has approached the door and stops dead in his tracks. "Sirius Black!" His wand is clumsily drawn, even though he is visibly startled. "James, what are you doing? He's a traitor!"

"Peter!" Sirius growls, calm forgotten in the released of five years' worth of pent-up anger. "You lying bastard! You betrayed your friends, you lied to James and Remus? How could you!?" His own wand is a light with rage, and he gestures violently with it towards the wheezing man.

"Hey!" James' wand is now pointed at Sirius' head. "Back off, Sirius!" Hearing his name spoken with such a negative tone stings, and Sirius takes a step back without really thinking about it.

A snotty smile breaks out over Pettigrew's chubby features. "Doesn't that apply more to you than to me?"

"No, no James, you know me - I would have rather died than betray my friends, I promise you!" Sirius pleads, trying to desperately make his friend see reason.

"He's lying," Peter's voice is cold, somehow. "Don't listen James, remember what Remus told you-"

"Remus was bloody half-unconscious! He didn't know what was going on until you planted the idea in his head!" he seethes at Peter, who looks shaken for a moment before regaining his composure.

"He spent five years in Azkaban," Peter continues, trying to ignore what Sirius had said. "He wants someone to pay for it." Then, in a louder voice, "You've no one to blame but yourself, Sirius!"

"You insolent little-!" Sirius bellows, raising his wand. Sparks start to fly from the tip, and he's sure Peter is about to be blasted to smithereens ...

But then Peter - Peter who has always been last in everything and the slowest to react - shoots first. There is the flash of a blinding green light, and Sirius throws up his arms to shield his eyes as his own shot goes wide.

He hears James Potter scream - a horrible, blood-curdling sound that shatters his heart and steals his breath from his lungs.

The last thing Sirius sees before the Aurors arrive is Pettigrew's shrinking form and his pink, worm-like tail disappearing into the rubble.

* * *

And that is how Sirius Black was given the sentence of 14 years in Azkaban for the attempted murders of Peter Pettigrew and James Potter. Pettigrew's body was never found, but if it was, Sirius is sure he'd be put back on trial for murder.

Years later, he reads in the Daily Prophet that James Potter has passed due to injuries sustained in the attack at Godric's Hollow. He is survived by his daughter, who was born to his Muggle mistress, a woman by the name of Lily.

And so Sirius remembers the name, because it is all he has left of his old friend, a little girl by the name of Hermione Granger.

* * *

**AN: This is where we begin. Please give me feedback on how you like this so far. I have the story outlined up to the point of 'In My Life', which is a good thing? Most of the chapters are fairly short, since if I turn this into a Brick-esque thing it will never get done. If this goes well, I'll go back and flesh it out, like I said.**

**Review suggestions for characters are welcomed.**


	3. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE  
**_There is no redemption to be found here._

* * *

_-London, 1815-_

Azkaban is known for it's harsh winds and unfathomable fortress-like walls. Those who serve time in Azkaban often die here-that is a fact. Sirius Black has spent exactly 19 years behind it's unforgiving bars, suffering as no man should have been forced to suffer, doing penance for a crime that he had not committed.

But today is different. Today, he is free.

The assistance guard's face is contorted into a sneer of utter revulsion. Sirius believes that this man might have been handsome were it not for the long, hooked nose that resides upon the face of the man he hates, this man who comes second only to Peter Pettigrew. Thick black hair that shires with oil even in the dim candlelight of prison is tucked and tied back underneath the blue officer's hat. Dark pools stare from where the eyesockets sit, and even in daylight it is hard to distinguish the irises from the pupils.

"Prisoner 24601." The man's curled lips form the sounds effortlessly. This silken tone has tormented him enough for a lifetime, he thinks bitterly.

"Snape," he spits back, the little liquid he has managed to gather in his too-dry mouth hits the floor, which is noticeably covered in filth anyways, making no difference. He struggles to be civil, then, because he has to be released today, he won't last another day in here, let alone another year for misconduct.

A grimace is drawn tight across the sallow complexion. "You know what today entails, I presume." Hatred is etched in the deep lines of Snape's face as he glares at Sirius's head, unwilling to acknowledge him, even as a prisoner. Any other day, this would be met with a snide remark, but today even Snape's dour mood cannot touch him. His anger melts away to be replaced by utter joy. He can't help himself, Sirius feels the first smile in 19 years pull his tired features. "Today I'm free."

"Freedom does not make you a changed man, Black. Just as parole does not make you a free one."

"I didn't do it, whatever else you may believe of me. Pettigrew was the one -" Sirius half-heartedly protests, only to be cut off.

"Pettigrew," Snape drawls, "is dead. And you are to report for parole in ten and a half days time. Your Apparation license is still revoked - you will be travelling the Muggle way, Prisoner 24601."

"My name is Sirius Black now," he replies, tugging the yellow parole papers from Snape's long fingered grip. Snape looks enraged for a brief moment, but then it slides off his greasy face, features forming an expression of neutrality.

"And I'm Severus Snape. Do not forget that, 24601."

The two guards outside the door come in and escort him to the boat waiting at the dock. Sirius inhales the fresh sea air greedily, inhaling freedom. The ride is long and ardous, but he is long past caring. The ocean spray is clean and cool on his filthy, matted hair and muck-covered clothing. When he reaches land he drops to his knees and laughs until he can't breathe, crawling forwards, leaving the two disgusted guards in his wake.

* * *

Sirius has walked three days to reach the wards of Hogwarts. Dumbledore is somehow already waiting for him when he reaches the tall gates, blue-robed and tall. This man is the only one who pleaded for mercy on Sirius' behalf during his trial, reminding the jury that there was no concrete evidence in his involvement with the Death Eaters or the murder of Peter Pettigrew. It was a valiant attempt, and none but Dumbledore could have even thought of trying it. Nonetheless, he was still sentenced to 14 years.

Even now, Sirius knows the white bearded man believes in him, believes in him when others did not - would not.

"I've a Portkey for you," Dumbledore says calmly as Sirius finally stops to stand in front of him, pulling out a non-descript wand and two silver candlesticks. "It will take you to France. I've arranged for some supplies for when you arrive there."

Sirius laughs, a gruff sound that betrays the amount of his sanity that he's surely lost over the years after being preyed upon by the Dementors. "You're helping me break my parole?"

The older man's gaze is stern. "You are not safe here. Voldemort's forces grow mightier by the day, and with the Wizarding world against you, you will be an easy target. This is for your safety!" Worry colors Dumbledore's tone, and Sirius relents and becomes somber.

"Thank you for everything you did. For trying to free me." His sincerity does not seem enough, but he offers it anyways. Sirius will always be indebted to Albus Dumbledore, and although he can not pay him in kind through monetary means or other favours, he will do his best to make his gratitude known.

Dumbledore simply shakes his head, however. "No, Sirius, thank you for being the good man that you are. I've no doubt you'll go on to do great things. Life has much more to offer you than what it has, Sirius. You are a true and loyal friend, as well as a brave, courageous one. Virtues like those are worth thanking for.

Once you arrive in France, you will be free to begin again as a new man, with no parole to haunt you, and no Aurors to track you. This is my gift to you, in thanks."

Sirius is embarrassed at this display of affection, and chooses to ignore the man's kind words. He does not believe in his ability to be good, not after he has failed his friends, failed James. He takes the silver and the wand with a trembling hand. "I'm not supposed to do magic," he mumbles awkwardly, patting the parchment with his parole rules in his robe pocket. "They've got trackers on me, somewhere." His gaze goes slightly wild as he searches himself, perhaps thinking he could find them.

A familiar twinkle shines in Dumbledore's eyes. "You can in France. The trackers will lose you then, and the magic will break on them. This Portkey was supposed to be mine, but I seem to find that international boundaries do not limit me when I Apparate," Dumbledore says cheerfully, "I will, however, go visit a dear friend, to add truth to my story and to ensure suspicion does not fall onto you." He clasps Sirius' shoulder in a fatherly gesture, grounding him to reality. "I've faith in your abilities, Sirius. I trust you will do well."

"I'll do my best to live up to that," Sirius croaks after a pause. Living up to Dumbledore's expectations of him, even with the wizard himself putting faith in him, seems beyond his mind's reach.

Checking his pocketwatch, Dumbledore sighs and releases him, taking a step back. "I hope to see you again in the future, Sirius Black."

Before he can answer, one of the candlesticks glows blue, and Sirius grips it tightly as he feels the familiar tug at his navel.

* * *

Sirius finds many things waiting for him at the safe house. Papers, for one, declaring him as Monsieur Madeleine. Money is another, ten thousand francs. A change of clothes completes the lot, along with a meal fit for a king. Sirius soaks it all in, then moves to the wash room.

There is a tub and washcloth, along with a clean towel draped against the side. Peering over the edge of the tube reveals a cake of soap. Sirius retrieves his new wand and goes to cast the water Charm. The simple spell takes a few goes to get right, but in the end the tub is filled with scalding hot water.

Sirius washes slowly - his first real bath in 19 years deserves some savouring - and doesn't leave even when the water goes cold. Eventually, though, he realizes it's best to leave, and quickly at that. He goes back into the main room and dons his new Muggle attire.

A quick Flagrante (again, it takes a few tries, but he's better at it now, and the magi flows through his wand arm with more ease) handles his old clothes as well as his parole papers, and, when he is satisfied at the pile of ashes, he allows himself to eat the food that has been set out for him.

It's richer than he's used to, of course, so he eats half of the small portion and wraps up the rest. It takes a lot of self-control to not scarf down the whole lot of it, but Sirius has spent 19 years being patient, and one day more is not a stretch. He's not about to waste any food, even if he's the proud new owner of ten thousand francs and two silver candlesticks.  
He unpacks his meager belongings from the ratty burlap sack, and repacks most of it into the new bag along with the money, the papers, and the food. Sirius shifts the pack onto his back, adjusting to the weight of it. The weight is a good weight, a sturdy weight, and it helps him concentrate on the task at hand.

The door is opened cautiously, with Sirius half-expecting the Aurors to be waiting for him outside, but there is no one in sight, only grassy fields and cheerful woods. A long path stretches past the house, but there are no signs to direct him. His French had been decent, but he's not sure how much he remembers from those blasted lessons his Pureblood mother had forced him to attend after nearly two decades of wasting away in prison.

He inhales fresh air, as a living, breathing, free man. It is good air, he decides, content. Sirius takes long, leaping strides to the path, then stops, looking both ways. Which way to go? He drops his gaze to the beaten path, trying to judge from the footprints which way is more populated, because surely that's safer, but then he realizes it doesn't matter.

This is the start of a new life, a new world. He's going to make France his new home for the rest of his days. He will help others and show them kindness as Dumbledore showed him. He will shed his old life along with his old clothes. Wherever he ends up, this is what he will strive for. Monsieur Madeleine will be a good man, beloved by his neighbours and friend to all.

Sirius Black will exist no more.

* * *

**AN: Please review if you like it! Progress updates can be found on my Author Profile.**


	4. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO  
**___To leave your heart behind._

* * *

_-Montfeurmeil, 1823-_

Her hands are shaking, even as her little Hermione grips her smallest finger in one chubby hand. Behind them is the Waterloo Inn, where the owners had offered to take in Hermione, but the Thénardiers had been suspiciously and overtly gracious and the innkeeper's breath had stunk of alcohol. She can't bear to part with her daughter, anyways, and she has somewhere to be.

So instead they walk through Montfeurmeil together, worn slippered feet starting down the path in careful, measured steps. Hermione's wild bushy hair attracts her mother's eye, but there is no ivory backed brush to comb it. Lily regrets this, but there is nothing she can do about it. James, her child's father and their protector, is long gone. His best friend is in prison somewhere, charged with James' murder, as well as Peter Pettigrew's.

This is what she has been told, at any rate, by Dumbledore, James' old school teacher. He was the one who had sent her and Hermione to France, saying that the people who had arranged for James and Peter's deaths may be after her as well. She was frightened enough to agree to it because she was shaken enough with grief to believe him.

Lily regrets that she outlived James; regrets that she is still Lily Granger instead of Lily Potter. She feels helpless, but it is only stiffening her resole to raise her child in the best way possible. Even if it means leaving her with someone else, she tells herself, but it won't come to that. She will find some steady work soon, and the two of them will be safe. It doesn't really matter if no one is actually after them, since she finds she no longer wants to stay in England anyways.

"Can we visit the bookstore there?" Hermione is asking. "I want to see if they have more fairytales." The worn book of tales is stowed in Hermione's little pack. It's her daughter's favourite book, and Lily reads stories from it nightly, even though Hermione has surely heard them many times before.

"Of course," she says, since she could never say no to her little girl.

* * *

Mum finds odd jobs to do on the first day while Hermione stays put in their rented room. Mum says nothing about why Hermione can't come, but Hermione suspects it is because people don't like hiring her mother while she is around - which in itself is ridiculous, she knows she is the most well-behaved child, Mum has never scolded her once.

Everyone else seems to speak a funny, foreign language, but the people who own the inn thankfully speak English. There's another little girl who lives at the inn, the daughter of the innkeepers. Hermione doesn't know the girl's name, but she sees her flittering about the rooms, a flash of shiny red hair here and there. She'd like to play with this strange girl, but everytime she tries to say something the little redhead disappears.

* * *

When her mother returns one day, she is tired and weary. and Hermione is hungry. There is a meager meal to show for the day, and the innkeeper's wife gives them a look that is not quite pity, but rather sympathetic. Mum pulls Hermione close, and after dinner the two of them read from Hermione's book until it's time to put out the light. Sleep soon claims the young girl, and, eventually, the mother.

This pattern continues for a spell, until the rent is due and Mum does not have enough to pay. The innkeeper's wife, Mrs. Weasley, is a kind, motherly woman who Hermione takes and immediate liking to.

"You can pay next week," the woman tells them, but her Mum shakes her head. The Weasleys are having a hard enough time sending their own children off to some boarding school, which Hermione has not heard of before, and money is tight. Her Mum insists she does not want to impose on their family, who Hermione notes is already dressed in shabby clothing and crammed in one small inn.

* * *

That night Lily concedes the point that she needs to get a stable job. Even with all the help Dumbledore has given them, she had refused to accept monetary assistance. It was the last thing she had left when she fled England - her pride. So she needs employment, and this is something that cannot be accomplished with a child in tow.

"There's a factory in Montreuil-sur-Mer, I hear it's hiring anyone," Molly Weasley tells her, when Lily inquires about possible steady work in the area. "You could go there, but it is a while away from here. I'm not sure how your young one would fare on the journey."

So arrangements are made, and Lily packs for M sur M. She has given most of the money she had to the Weasleys to pay for Hermione's care, and promises to send more as soon as she can.

Hermione fully comprehends the situation at hand, but this does not stop her from crying and clinging to Lily's dusty skirts. It hurts her very soul to leave her treasure behind, but she tells herself it's for the best. She will become independent, and when she is able to support herself she will come fetch Hermione.

"_Au revoir_, my little one," Lily whispers. "I love you and will come for you as soon as I am able, I promise. _Tu dois être une bonne fille pour_ Madame Weasley."*

"Y-yes Mum." Hermione's voice is wobbly and tearful, her cheeks blotched red and pink from crying. She sniffs slightly, rubbing her button nose with a damp sleeve. "_Je vais essayer_."**

Lily hugs her daughter for the last time, and plants a number of wet kisses on her forehead and face. "_Je t'aime, mon ange_."***

* * *

"Why don't you play with Ginny?" Madame Weasley is saying to Hermione, who is sitting in the corner with her book. Her mother has been gone for a whole day now, and Hermione has not budged from her spot since then, only getting up for meals and bathroom breaks.

The little Weasley girl shifts around in her seat from across the room, red hair in corkscrew curls framing her rosy cheeks. Suddenly Hermione feels jealous of the youngest Weasley's pretty hair. Hermione stares hard for a moment longer. "Okay," she decides, standing up. She turns to the other girl, "Want to read from my book? We can go upstairs."

Ginny nods shyly, and goes to follow. They join hands and the base of the stairwell and head up.

From where she sits at the table, Madame Weasley wears a pleased smile. She's sure the two girls will be the best of friends, and that it will be especially good for Ginny, who does not have many girls her age to play with.

* * *

"I like the princess," says Ginny when the story is over. "I want to be a princess when I grow up."

Hermione closes the book with a tiny smile, glad to have finally connected and made a friend. "I do too. Maybe we can live in castles next to each other, someday."

"I would like a pony," Ginny adds thoughtfully," and a prince."

"Me too," Hermione hops down from the bed places the book down on the top of the dresser, standing on the tips of her toes to reach. "We can both marry princess and read lots of books. I'll have a big library," Hermione spreads her arms wide to demonstrate the size.

"And a stable for my pony," Ginny insists.

"Yes," Hermione nods emphatically. "A stable for both our ponies. We can ride them together in the garden."

"Won't they eat the flowers?"

"Not if we teach them not too," Hermione says after a pause. Then, "Let's draw a picture of it."

This makes Ginny brighten. "I'll ask for some paper," she jumps up and bolts out the door excitedly.

Hours later, they both examine their completed works of art. "I like yours better," Hermione says mournfully. "I can't draw as well as you."

"I like yours," Ginny argues half-heartedly in response. "I like the dress."

The girl in the dress, which is supposed to be Hermione, stands awkward and stiff, a book propped under an arm. And it really only looks like that if you squint. Hermione had had to explain what it was before The other girl in the other drawing, Ginny, has long, long hair and sits on top of a horse.

"Maybe you can help me next time," Hermione decides, trying to brush some stray brown curls form her face.

"Okay," Ginny says idly, absently sketching a flower into her girl's hair. "And you can teach me how to read better. And I can help you learn French."

For a five-year-old girl, Ginny Weasley makes a good artist and an even better friend.

"_Très bien_," Hermione says, and they both giggle until Madame Weasley calls them for dinner.

* * *

**AN: I imagine adorable little Bonnie Wright when she saw Harry for the first time in CoS for this scene. -sighs- And yes, Hermione can't draw. I couldn't help but put that in.**

**"You must be a good girl for Madame Weasley."***  
**"I will try."****  
**"I love you, my angel."*****


	5. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE  
**___There's a jealousy that burns deep within us all._

* * *

_-Montreuil-sur-Mer, 1824-_

"Want to go out for supper tonight?" Her coworker inquires. They've just been paid, and Lily counts every coin to ensure the amount is right.

"I'm busy," she falters. She has Hermione to think of, so she can't afford to spend frivolously.

"Fine," the woman, Petunia, answers airily. "Maybe some other time." She walks away, and rejoins her small group of friends, shooting a contemptuous glance over her should while Lily is not watching.

As she continues to refuse their offers, Lily begins to sense resentment behind Petunia's invitations. She tells herself it doesn't matter what they think, because she knows Hermione is the only person who really counts. Once she's earned enough to bring Hermione to M-sur-M, perhaps she can finally begin to put her past behind her. As long as she has Hermione, everything will be alright.

* * *

'Happy Birthday!' Hermione's letter, written by Madame Weasley, says. 'I drew you a picture and wrote my name. Ginny helped.'

Indeed, there sits Hermione's name under a drawing of a girl with bushy brown circles for hair, and a mother with a wide smile and long red hair. Trees and flowers surround the pair, and woodland creatures create mischief in the background.

'Will you show your friends at work?' Hermione asks.

'Of course,' Lily writes back, because she can't say no to her daughter, but she can lie.

'I love you.' Hermione signs her name again at the bottom of the letter. It's a tad squiggly, but it's brilliant for her age.

'I love you too, _mon ange_,' Lily smiles as she seals the letter. She will post it tomorrow, after her shift is done.

* * *

Petunia watches Lily work. The redhaired woman seems to think herself above all others; she declines all offers of friendship and distances herself from all, even the forewoman.

"She must be hiding something," Petunia mutters spitefully to Marie, who is next to her. "Probably spends all her time in the company of men, if you understand." Marie nods in agreement.

Finally, when the day is at an end, Petunia walks up to Lily, flanked by Marie and another worker. "We're going out for dinner at the cafe on Rue de Lamaire, do you want to come?" It comes out harsher than she intended, but it doesn't really matter, since they all know the answer.

Lily seems taken aback at being cornered so suddenly. "I - sorry. I have other - previous - arrangements."

A nasty smile reaches Petunia's lips. "Right, just like every other night, you're 'busy'." The last word is a sneer, justified with the nods and glares from the other women.

Lily undoes her apron straps silently. As she turns to walk away, a flash of paper from her pocket catches Petunia's eye. Quick as a fox, she lurches forward, bony fingers snapping it up. Petunia waves it in front of Lily tauntingly as the other women titter their approval.

"What's this?" she asks, a note of barely suppressed glee evident in her voice. Lily lets out a soft cry of dismay, and stumbles toward her.

"Give that back! You've no right!"

Petunia jerks away from the redhead's outstretched hand and unfolds the letter, expecting something that will confirm her suspicions of Lily being a prostitute. In her mind, the proud and pretty Lily Granger could be no less.

What she finds is not the same, but it is close enough.

"_Je t'aime_, Hermione," Petunia reads aloud. "That your daughter's name?"

"_Oui_," Lily holds her head high, even as whispers worm their way through the crowd of female workers.

"What of your husband?" Marie demands, stepping up.

"He - he died. Before we were wed," Lily answers, miserable, now. "But there's nothing wrong with that!" She is defiant now, challenging the room at large. Her posture is straight, her eyes aflame with something unlike anything Petunia has seen. It is beautiful.

"The mayor doesn't want promiscuous whores like you at his factory!" Petunia seethes, although she knows what she is doing now is something she will regret later. Her jealous knows no bounds, it would seem. She despise the pretty face before her.

"Take that back!" Lily exclaims, anger coloring her cheeks. It is the first time she has seen Lily like this, and she resembles some kind of vengeful goddess, red hair flying astray as she takes an raging step forwards.

"Take your bastard child and leave!" Petunia snaps back, drawing on some previously untapped reservoir of courage.

Something in Lily must have snapped, then, because she comes charging at Petunia, the flames alight in her green eyes fierce and burning. The slap from Lily's hand is sharp and stings, but not as much as her piercing glare does. Her cheek colors blithely, and Petunia watches as the other women hold Lily back when the forewoman approaches.

Silver tongued words fill the room as the women turn on one of their own like vultures. There is no mercy when it comes to the integrity of the group as a whole, and it is only too easy to interject a hateful comment when it is fully supported by public opinion - prostitutes are blasphemous and unfit for proper society.

Lily is dragged screaming to the door, and Petunia turns a blind eye to the act, choosing instead to declare loudly what a good riddance it is that the menace is gone.

When Lily Granger is fired that day, Petunia doesn't dwell on it for too long. It is better and easier to forget, to go to the monotony of day-to-day work and her grouchy, boring family.

* * *

The street is filled with quiet, slinking people and their unthinkable acts. Thieves and gamins alike slip through the alleyways and cracks in the society, although she has heard it to be better here than Paris, where the poor outnumber the rich and run rampant in the streets, desperate and hungry.

Lily did not want to find herself here, in the undesirable part of town, but she needs the money. She needs to be strong for Hermione. Thus she had braved the docks to visit a nearby pawnshop. Her things were sold without regret, only sadness. Her mother's locket, her old silk scarf. Fancy things from a fancy life that was no longer hers. She does not cry; she can't cry anymore. James is long gone and with him her tears have turned inwards, pooling in her heart.

She had just made her way down the street - wondering how on earth she would make her rent - when the wizened old woman with the cutting shears had approached.

Now she sits shakily on the stool as the woman touches her red hair, resisting the urge to jerk away and meet the grimy touch with violence. Naturally, she is not a violent person, but this place sends chills across her skin; made even more prominent with the winter frost on its way.

She thinks, instead, of the francs she will receive for her locks. Francs that will go to Hermione. It is a worthy trade, she believes, to give up this piece of herself. One day they will live together, in a safe place where no one can touch them. That is the ideal; the dream she will continue to reach for. But as the red strands are severed she screws her eyes shut, unable to watch anymore.

* * *

**AN: 1300 words even - moving on! Please follow, favourite, and REVIEW! I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I can't really stretch it out any more than I already have. I just want to get this part over with.**


	6. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR  
**_We keep our secrets in the wishing well._

* * *

_-The Outskirts of Montreuil-sur-Mer, 1824-_

The mayor is a strange man, Auror Snape decides, watching as the tall, plainly dressed man talks with one of the locals, apparently at ease and unconcerned with the social protocol.

This town - Montfermeil - has been revitalized from the once small Wizarding community it was. Wizards and Muggles alike co-exist peacefully, the Muggles wholy unaware.

"What a good man Monsieur le Maire is," says the people. "What good luck have we to live in such a prosperous town? We want not for work, nor security. We thrive."

"What a wonderful Muggle Mayor he is," says the Wizarding community. "Completely unlike the last man we had, who had lost his head at the mere mention of magic. This Mayor treats us kind and well, just like any others, despite being a Muggle."

Indeed, Monsieur Madeleine created a booming industry in the black glass market, so quickly that some of the wittier Wizards even call it magic. Auror Snape, however, has other ideas. His sharp black eyes are watching and waiting for the day when the man who was placed on Montreuil-sur-Mer's pedestal to fall down. In other words, he waits for Sirius Black, as he always has. What a suspicious man Monsieur Madeleine is, raising this poor town out of the dirt. His resemblance to Black striking and disturbingly close, too close, in Snape's mind.

And so he waits, waits for the mayor to slip up and reveal an identity of an ex-criminal instead that of an upstanding citizen. It won't be long, Snape thinks to himself. Gryffindor tendencies tend to make themselves known before too long.

* * *

The two of them, he and the mayor, are in the middle of a less populated street - he on patrol and the mayor on a leisurely stroll - when the shout arises, jolting Snape from his thoughts. Without a word spoken between them, both men are off in the direction of the noise.

"A young boy has fallen down a well! His leg is broken, please, we need help!" The wailing voice belongs to a woman, and Monsieur Madeleine flinches at the sound, running towards her at a speed faster than most men of his age are capable of.

A small crowd of about half a dozen people has gathered around the cobblestone well, chattering in low, worried tones. The tearful and fearful sounds of the boy trapped inside are heard loud and clear.

"All the thin ropes will snap under the weight of a man and boy," one man tells Snape, shrugging. He runs a hand through unkempt, filthy hair. "No one can get down until we get better equipment."

The woman - the mother - seems to think her prayers have been answered. "Thank God! You're here, Monsieur le Maire," she sobs desperately, clinging to his coat. "Please, do something." Her face is streaked and red; her dress is worn and faded; her apron stained and damp. Snape looks away from the spectacle.

The mayor's grey eyes survey the damage. He hesitates for only the tiniest moment, his gaze calculating. "I'll return with a rope and pulley," he states gruffly, before bounding away as quickly as he came. The mayor vanishes into the greenery. Snape deliberates following him, but only minutes later it seems, a shaggy black dog appears, its coat clean and silky. It's eyes are intelligent and bright as the dog barks once, twice, then nudges the thin rope lying on the ground towards the well.

"Bless him," says the mother softly, tears slowing slightly as she leans over to pet the shaggy head. The dog grins lazily up at her, wagging its tail. "I think he wants to help."

"We can tie the rope and send the dog down," a taller man suggests, already picking the rope up off of the ground and starting to tie a harness.

"Who's dog is this?" Snape snaps through gritted teeth. He remembers a night long ago, then, one where he'd gone down to a tall tree called the Whomping Willow only to discover a werewolf, one where he'd been saved by James Potter and a mysterious black dog. He remembers those intelligent eyes; he sees them in nightmares of times gone by.

"It's the town dog. He walks about, sometimes plays with the children. They adore him. He even has treats for them, like apples, I've no idea where he gets them -"

"Send the dog down," Snape interjects, cutting the man off. The man doesn't do anything at first, but a sharp glare from Snape sends him into action.

_I don't trust you_, he thinks at the dog as the tall man goes to harness him. All soft fur and gentle demeanor, the dog sits patiently.

"We're sending Snuffles down! He'll stay with you until the mayor returns, Jean!" shouts the dirty-haired man.

There is a helpless cry of assent before the black mutt is lowered into the well. Panting and yipping echoes off of the walls as Snuffles goes deeper down.

* * *

Snuffles's padded feet lands softly on the cramped floor of the well. Jean sobs quiet as the dog nuzzles his head against Jean's side, Jean's fingers sliding through the silky pelt. Snuffles is a warm, safe presence that calms his crying, and his soft fur is a balm on his scraped skin. Large grey eyes blink at him from Snuffles friendly face, and Jean suddenly understands what Snuffles wants as the dog lowers himself onto his stomach.

Slowly, Jean moves his hurt limbs until he is in a position to climb onto Snuffles back. Snuffles barks lightly in encouragement, so Jean swings a leg over the dog's warm body, hands gripping the sides of Snuffles soft body. As soon as Jean is secure, Snuffles barks loudly until a head appears above the well.

"Pull me up!" Jean wails, because Snuffles cannot speak, and if he doesn't he might not see his mother until the Mayor comes back with better rope, and even then it might not work. He doesn't want to spent any more time in the dark, damp well.

"Pull!" The man up top signals to someone Jean can't see. The boy and the dog are slowly hoisted up. Jean's legs grip Snuffles' body tightly as he shuts his eyes, terrified of falling off.

"Hold on, Jean!" He can hear his mother calling, so he grips Snuffles even tighter, hoping the dog doesn't mind. Apparently Snuffles doesn't, because he yips happily, tail wagging and swatting Jean's legs. Jean can remember his mother's soft embrace, the way she tugs at his lively curls and warns him to ... well, to stay away from the well.

They reach the top and Jean is lifted off Snuffles by his mother; his knees rubbed with a damp, scratchy cloth, despite Jean's loud protests of shock and pain. He's glad though, to be back with his mother, even as she plants wet kisses all over his face. Jean struggles out of her grasp, wanting to thank the dog who saved him.

Snuffles barks at the pair, eliciting a tearful goodbye from Jean, who recognizes that his friend is leaving, and a noise of surprise from his mother, who reaches out briefly, as if to draw Snuffles back to her. Snuffles wags his tail and disappears into the bushes once more at a slow trot.

Snape follows.

* * *

**AN: Hello new followers/favouriters/readers! Hope you like this so far. We're getting into the nitty-gritty bits.**


	7. Chapter Five

**CHAPTER FIVE**  
_Of lost identities and secret pasts._

* * *

_-The Outskirts of Montreuil-sur-Mer, 1824-_

Sirius shifts back into his human form, and lifts himself off all fours. Drawing his wand, Sirius vanishes the dirt on his trousers and quickly Transfigures some sturdy rocks into a thick rope and pulley - just in time, in fact, because Snape bursts through a moment later, wand aloft. Cold sweat breaks out on Sirius' back, but he forces himself to remain calm, remembering that the man before him is an Occlumens. Sirius raises his mental shields and prepares himself.

He pretends to start violently, dropping the rope onto the ground before jerking his head up to stare Snape dead in the eyes. "Inspector -"

"Pardon me," Snape lowers his wand, but the suspicious look does not leave his face. He does not look the slightest bit abashed or worried at having almost assaulted the Mayor.

"The dog -" he pants, only half-faking the exertion. "- just ran past? Were you -?" Sirius puts as much curiosity and innocence into the question as he can.

"Yes," Snape responds curtly, his gaze not leaving the rope and pulley. "The boy is safe. We were able to raise both the boy and the dog with the weaker ropes."

"Safe," Sirius repeats, as if to be sure, "and unharmed?"

The Auror nods, and the relief on Sirius' face is genuine. He dashes forward - past Snape - and throws the rope and pulley on the ground, where they land with a loud clunk. Breaking through the trees, Sirius can see that Jean is alright, certainly, and being cuddled by his mother. A warm smile spreads across his face as he strides up to the pair.

"Monsieur Mayor!" Jean exclaims, tiredness forgotten, "Did you see Snuffles? Is he with you?" The young boy cranes his neck in an attempt to see past his mother's curtain of long blonde hair. "I want to thank him!"

"I saw him," Sirius reassures the boy, "no doubt he's gone off to chase cats or somesuch. You can thank him when you see him next."

"Okay," Jean rubs his eyes, stifling a huge yawn behind his fist. The day's adventures have long since zapped him of his energy. "Can we go home now, mother?"

"Yes, of course."

Sirius and Jean's mother thank all the people who helped, and soon it is just the four of them: Jean, his mother, Sirius and Snape.

"Thank you so much," his mother (Rowena, he now recalls her name) gushes.

Sirius simply waves it off. "Thank Snuffles, he was the one who did the saving."

"I will," she answers wearily, a few loose tendrils of hair draping in front of her heart-shaped face. She does not appear to care; she merely clutches her boy closer; afraid that he will suddenly vanish. "That dog is getting a feast fit for a king the next time I see him." Rowena continues to cradle a now sleepy Jean on her hip. "We'll head home now. Say goodbye to the mayor, Jean."

Jean sleepily mutters a 'g'bye', and Sirius watches the two figures shrink as they walk down the path. Jean manages a last, sleepy wave before he and his mother turn the corner, and Sirius pointedly waves back.

Now only two men remain.

"The dog ... I couldn't believe it. He looked just like him ..." Snape murmurs thoughtfully into the silence. The tone is calculating and deliberate.

"Like who?"

"A man I once knew. An Animagus; he could turn into a dog at will. A dog quite similar to your Snuffles. He became a convict, he murdered two good men and was a faithful servant to our world's most evil Dark Lord."

"How terrible," Sirius says casually. "What became of him?"

Snape eyes him with a sort of veiled malice. "He served a number of years in Azkaban before he was released. He came from a rich, noble family; it secured his freedom, in the end. A man like that deserved more; deserved death, but the system shuts it eyes and ears to those like Sirius Black," he spits the name out. "The only thing that still irks me is that this man bears very many similarities to you."

"To me? But I am -"

"A Muggle, yes," supplies Snape, noticeably intent in his black gaze. "Nonetheless, I hope to catch him yet."

"I hope you find the criminal." Sirius thinks of Peter Pettigrew, the true perpetrator; the true betrayer of Lily and James. "A man like that deserves to pay for his sins."

"Indeed. And now I'm afraid I must report at the Ministry," Snape inclines his head slightly, "If you'll excuse me."

"Of course," Sirius gestures awkwardly in a random direction as Snape Apparates away with a loud, swift 'crack!'.

Now there is one.

No one else sees the mayor's body collapse with soundless relief. There is a thin sheen of sweat on his back; his shirt clinging desperately to it as Sirius takes deep, calming breaths. Close. So close. Snape suspects him already; preparations must be made. If the Aurors come looking for him, he must be ready to flee.

* * *

_-Montreuil-sur-Mer-_

Lily Granger is evicted from her room that evening. The 15 francs from the sale of her hair was sent directly to the Weasleys, who most certainly need the money more than she does. Hermione and the other Weasley children, Lily thinks, will continue to be happy and healthy. Little Ginny Weasley, barefoot and ragged, is at the forefront of her mind as she resolves to do whatever is necessary to help them. Lily has doubts she will find work here in Montreuil-sur-Mer anymore (the rumors spread faster than anything she's ever known), but there must be someone in a nearby town who would be willing to give her work.

The wind bites at her ankles, even through her thick stockings. Winter will soon be upon the city, and Lily is no longer sure if she will be able to have Hermione with her by Christmas. Her mind wanders to another subject, one that eases her breathing a little more: why they had left England to begin with. Sent to France to hide - Lily doesn't exactly know why, only that England was no longer safe - Albus Dumbledore had provided transport and a small starter fund. He had mournfully informed her it was the best he could do; most of their funds had been spent fighting against an evil lord. Lily had not pried further than that.

_"I wish you the best of luck in your new life, Miss Granger. Please do not hesitate to contact me if you require futher assistance."_

Perhaps, if she does not find new work soon, she will send him a letter requesting monetary aid, as much as it hurts her pride to do so. Still, in poverty she will do her best to aid others, and that includes the Weasleys and even the spiteful women who sent her packing. Lily does not want revenge for what they had done; she understands their point of view, however mislead and prejudiced it may have been. She does not blame them, she tells herself, and Lily almost believes it.

So as Lily walks the street in darkness, absorbed in thought as she absently attempts to find a place to curl up for the night, she does not see the hooded, masked figure following doggedly in her wake.

Nor does she see the blinding flash of light headed straight for her back - not until it is too late.

* * *

**AN: asdfghjkl. Please review.**


	8. Chapter Six

**CHAPTER SIX**  
_They knew each other, once. They were different people, then._

* * *

_-Montreuil-sur-Mer, 1824-_

The Dark Mark has never been spotted in France before, but Sirius Black still recognizes it with a startling clarity. He remembers the terror and fear it had wrought upon Britain and how the mere sight of it could mean a family had been brought to its knees. Shaking off the sudden chill, he orders a horse to be prepared immediately, although he knows he will not arrive before Snape, who will Apparate there, but Sirius needs to know what could have brought Death Eaters to France.

He pushes the horse as fast as it can go, tearing through street after street and sending the Muggles into a flurry, but when he reaches the scene of the crime there is already too much blood; rich, red and thick across the grey ground. The body of a red-haired woman is being lifted onto a cot, visibly covered in lacerations.

Auror Snape is watching the proceedings with an angry grimace. He does not look up as Sirius approaches.

"The symbol in the sky - I came as fast as I could - I thought perhaps magic was involved -" Sirius tries his best to act ignorant, but his hands and knees are quaking beneath him as the Healers try to stabilize her long enough for a Portkey or Apparation to be safe.

"She was attacked by an evil wizard, a Death Eater who served a Dark Lord in Britain. He died today; subsequently magical Britain has been celebrating." A sneer. "They did not, I suspect, expect consequences or retaliation for their actions. The woman," Snape's eyes are still trained on the woman, "is being taken to the nearest Wizarding hospital to be healed to the best of our ability. Do not worry for her." His tone does not betray any sympathy or emotion regarding the situation; it is simply dull and lifeless.

Unnerved, Sirius walks up to the floating cot, pulling his features into a mystified expression as he does so. The woman's shocking red is cropped short and familiar. Wheezing gasps rock her frail form as she struggles to breathe, and then she is briefly obscured by the Healers frantic motions; they are trying to heal the cuts and slashes, but they keep reopening. A particularly large gash on her side splits and sends her into convulsions, jerking her upwards, her eyes bulging in panic and pain. They are a brilliant, startling shade of emerald green.

"No!" The horrified exclamation burst forward of its own accord. The dying woman is Lily Granger, James' love, he is sure of it. The medi-wizard nearby curses loudly, casting a spell that causes Lily to freeze and fall backwards, eyelids fluttering close. His companion joins him, and they Portkey away.

Snape strides to Sirius, brow raised. "You know her?"

"I - I -" Sirius doesn't know how to explain it without giving himself away, "I knew someone who looked like her. It startled me." This is not quite true, but Sirius hopes he was mistaken in his identification of Lily Granger.

"But of course," Snape says smoothly. "Perhaps you should return home, rest a while? You seem tired." The silky tone proves Sirius' need to be very aware of the real danger Auror Snape poses to him; a man who would like nothing more than to see Sirius behind Azkaban's bars.

"Yes, perhaps I ought to. Goodnight, Inspector," Sirius tilts his hat before departing.

* * *

_-The Office of Monsieur le Maire-_

Hermione Granger had not been with Lily, who has no current known residence. Upon questioning his forewoman, Sirius learns that Lily had been fired from his own factory without his notice. Guilt churn deep in his gut. If Lily had not been fired, she might not have been wandering the streets tonight, cold and alone. She had been so close, and Sirius hadn't even known it.

Snape must know that he will try to see her; he will be waiting at St. Maxime's for Sirius. He is waiting for Sirius to expose himself in a public place where there is no chance for escape. If Sirius goes, he may very well be sent back to Azkaban. If he does not go, Lily may die, and Hermione, who is James' child and the last remaining link to him, may die along with her.

If Sirius is caught, they all may die anyways.

He imagines Hermione: a little girl with James' messy, untamable hair and Lily's intelligent green eyes. Will he be able to live with himself if he does not try?

_"I would have rather died than betray my friends, I promise you!"_

Cradled in his hand is a clipping from the news article of James' death, and a photo from Sirius and James' childhood at Hogwarts. Tucking them into his pockets, Sirius tugs off his coat, setting on the desk before him, and draws his wand. He has decided, and he knows his decision is the right one - even after James shunned him and believed him to be a murderer; even after 19 years in Azkaban.

The wand tip touches the coat, and a dark blue robe begins to materialize from the well-worn fabric.

* * *

_-St Maxime's Hospital-_

Snape sits by Lily Granger's side, staring mournfully down at her as her chest rises and falls with shallow breath. She is being kept under a stasis-charm because there is nothing more they do for her.

Sirius Black is not the only one to recognize Lily Granger. Snape does as well; they had been neighbours when they were children. Before he had gone to Hogwarts and he left the streets that had turned him into a beggar. She'd lived in a nice apartment in a nice building and he'd slept on the stairs outside. They'd played together, and sometimes she would bring him food. In return, he had regaled her with stories of Hogwarts. The enraptured young Muggle girl had loved them. He had hoped she would turn out to be Muggleborn, but when his letter came and hers did not. So Snape had had to bid farewell to the girl he had grown to love and leave the Muggle world behind for at least seven years. There was to be no outside contact; this was the strict law that had been put in place to ensure the International _Statute_ of Wizarding Secrecy would hold.

_"I'm going to school soon,"_ he'd told her.

She had pouted. _"To Hogwarts?"_

He'd sighed. _"Yeah, to Hogwarts,"_ he mumbled.

_"Well,"_ she seemed to choose her words carefully. _"We can write, can't we? You can tell me all about the things you learn!"_

But he couldn't, he couldn't tell her, and it was then he had decided it was best to leave it all behind. Of the few spells his mother had taught him before she had left him, he remembered one with startling accuracy.

He had aimed his newly purchased wand at her, black eyes full of regret. _"Obliviate."_

His school years had not brought much relief; rather a respite. James Potter and his group of friends had tormented him for seven years, and upon graduating he had sworn he would never allow another person to harm another while he stood; would never allow the laws which had been set to protect shatter. And so Severus Snape became Auror Snape, known as Inspector Snape in the Muggle world. He had not seen her again until the announcement of James Potter's marriage was placed in the newspaper.

But James Potter is dead now, and there is only one man left to hate: Sirius Black. Snape hopes with a fervent passion that the filthy convict will show his face at the door. Snape would avenge her - avenge Lily - law be damned. He will punish Black for Lily's death. What was one Death Eater in the place of another, anyhow?

He hears the approach of footsteps and rises to stand in front of Lily. The stasis-charm is due to wear off at any moment, he knows, but he will make this duel fast.

The hooded figure at the entrance is dressed in navy blue robes, but in the dim light of dawn they appear black.

"Sirius Black," he drawls, mouth stretching into a feral grin. "Come to finish the job you started when you murdered James Potter?"

* * *

**AN: -sings- The Confrontatioooon! A lovely long chapter for all you wonderful people. Please remember to review with what you think, and what you'd like to see in upcoming chapters!**


	9. Chapter Seven

**CHAPTER SEVEN**  
_She fell to her fate; she rose to heaven._

* * *

_-St Maxime's Hospital, 1824-_

"Believe whatever you want about me, but there are still so many things you'll never understand, because you've never loved anyone in your whole miserable life, Snape," Sirius snaps at him, although his eyes are trained on Lily's stirring form. "She's awake."

"Lily Granger," Snape turns to her, "Do not worry. You are at a hospital. Do you remember anything about your attacker?" There is only a short window for questioning. Even now he can see the remaining color draining from her face. Snape needs to know something, anything; a name or face to hunt down after he has disposed of Sirius Black.

"H-hermione -" she croaks. "My Hermione ..."

"Where is she?" Sirius asks, stepping forwards.

Lily's green eyes focus on him. "You - you fired me. From your factory - I -" She coughs, blood pattering her plain blouse. Snape flinches slightly at this, but makes no move towards her, instead choosing to clench his wand in his fist, fingernails digging into pale flesh. "The forewoman -"

"Was mistaken," Sirius assures her firmly, keeping himself focused on Lily. "I will fetch Hermione for you, and I will speak with the forewoman."

Relief crosses Lily's features, making her pain-worn face look younger. "Thank you. Monsieur, you come with God's blessing. Hermione is with a family ... the Weasleys, in Montfermeil."

"He is no such saint," Snape spits. "He's a lying murderer."

"Don't listen to him," Sirius says fiercely, "He's a git with no idea what he's talking about. I'll go get Hermione right now and bring her to you -" Sirius goes to Apparate, but Snape's wand, which is pointed at his head, stops him.

"You're not going anywhere, Sirius Black," he hisses, "You're a wanted man."

Lily recoils in horror, her gaunt features twisting into a terrified expression. "Sirius? Sirius Black?"

"That's right. He's the filthy bastard who murdered the father of your child!" Snape answers angrily, shaking his wand at Sirius.

Lily lets out a strangled cry of anguish, falling back onto the bedding. Sirius' eyes widen in terror along with Snape's. Snape rushes to her side to recast the stasis-charm, but she is already gone.

"You idiot!" Sirius whispers as Snape freezes in horror, "You killed her!" The shock must have pushed her over the edge, Sirius thinks angrily.

"N-no," Snape stumbles backwards, knocking over a table. He appears to be just as horrified of his own actions. "No, I didn't - _no_."

"You did," Sirius accuses, taking a step towards him, eyes flashing. Sparks flicker on his wand as Sirius notes the familiar feel of fiery magic in his veins, ignited after so many years of dormancy. The anger broiling in him is enough to fuel his duel with Snape.

"No - no you did! You're the one who killed James Potter -" Snape shouts back, trembling with grief.

"You hated James! You hated him and you hate me. You didn't even know Lily." Sirius is only half-aware of what he's saying, the only image in his mind that of Lily's dull-eyed, limp form.

"NO! " Snape cries, "No ... Lily ... gone ... dead ..." His eyes are wild as he rights himself, inhaling deeply. "You don't know anything about my life, Black!"

"I know enough to know you're still an insensitive, greasy-haired git," Sirius' wand is also aimed now, and the two men subconsciously begin to circle each other.

Snape fires first, a non-verbal Cutting Hex that Sirius barely manages to dodge.

"My, my. Reflexes not what they used to be?" Snape goads him, fury written all over his face. It is true, that Sirius has not duelled in years, and that gives Snape, who has trained with the best, a distinct advantage. But in his own anger and grief Snape is not thinking clearly, and Sirius has to exploit that if he wants to make it out of here alive.

Sirius casts Flagrante right back, saving his magic for more complex spells as he regains his ground. He has to best Snape in this - for Hermione's sake - Snape deflects it with a lazy flick of his wand, and their duel begins in earnest. Spells fly faster and the gap of reaction time closes in until Sirius finds himself with only split seconds in which to shield himself from the Transfigured knives begin thrown at him.

It's a wonder the guards haven't come running yet, but Sirius thinks Snape might have cast something to block out the noise -

"_Sectumsempra_!" Snape roars, catching Sirius off-guard. The spell hits Sirius across the left side of his torso, blood seeping into his robes as Sirius scowls against the sudden, throbbing pain.

"So it was your spell that Death Eater used!" Sirius bites back through gritted teeth. "You and your Death Eater friends. You accuse me of being a traitor when you of all people betrayed Lily ..." Anger clouds his vision fully as Sirius slashes his wand in a hard motion, a fiery ball aimed at Snape's head.

Snape looks surprised, but blocks the spell. "You might not believe it, Black, but you're still wrong! Who do you think told Dumbledore to send Lily to France? I did! I saved her and her child while you killed James Potter in cold blood -"

Sirius shouts the Killing Curse, which Snape dodges, knocking into a shelf which falls and cracks behind him.

"You really want to go back to Azkaban, don't you?" Snape seethes.

"Where the Dementors can suck away at you soul ... Or, if you're lucky, you'll be Kissed."

Refusing to let the jibes get to him, Sirius sends spell after spell at the shelf, which rises and splinters in midair, sending the contents along with the wood flying everywhere, hitting Snape, who drops. Sirius wastes no time in grabbing Lily's bag of meager possessions and Apparating away.

* * *

_-The Weasley's Inn, Montfeurmeil-_

The strange man who appears at the doorstep has come to take Hermione away. Ginny doesn't like this idea at all, because Hermione is her friend and she doesn't want to lose her friend, especially because Hermione is the only girl she has had to play with. Apparently her mother agrees, because she is questioning the man with jabbing fingers. The man produces something from his pockets Ginny can't see, and her mother relents. The stranger's face is gaunt and tired. It is only then that Ginny notices that he is hurt. Her mother does, too, and then there is a huge fuss as her mother goes to heal the mess. At first the magic doesn't work, something Ginny finds strangely fascinating. She's never seen a wound or cut her mother couldn't heal.

This fact appears to hold true, because her mother tries a new method, murmuring words in a low tone that Ginny cannot hear. Hermione comes stumbling down steps scant seconds later, and Ginny's mother goes to introduce her to the newcomer. Hermione looks wary, but is reassured by mother's words. She and the man exchange a few pleasantries in English, which Ginny doesn't quite understand, but the her mother speaks up in French again, insistently.

"You can both rest here for the night and head out tomorrow, _sans frais_.*"

"I'm sorry," the gruff voice replies, not sounding very sorry at all. "I'm afraid it has to be tonight. I've an appointment to make."

"It's the middle of the night!" her mother exclaims hotly. "_Elle est seulement un enfant_!**"

"Again, I'm sorry. But there is nothing else to be done."

"Hermione could stay here a while longer -" Ginny hears the hedging tone.

"This is the only opportunity I will have. Please, allow me to take Hermione to her mother. The man who attacked me tonight and -" the man cuts himself off, as if remembering something, "- may not hesitate to do so again. I need to ensure she is safe, and I won't allow her to be put in danger."

Molly Weasley's mouth is a thin-set, tight line. "I don't like it. Its too dangerous."

"I never said you had to like it," the man smiles slightly. "But you have my word she will be safe."

"Shall I pack?" Hermione says cheerfully, eager to see her mother, Ginny thinks. For a moment Ginny feels bad, because Hermione hasn't seen her mother for a year while Ginny has her mother and father and brothers. But Ginny would gladly accept Hermione into her family, and she's sure her mother would too. Maybe they could convince the man to leave Hermione here with them instead. He could go keep Hermione's mother company, and every once in a while she could come visit. That way Hermione could still see her mother and Ginny could still play with Hermione, who has become an older sister to her.

"Yes, please," the stranger says, gesturing at the stairs.

Ginny watches her best friend leave without a second glance.

* * *

**AN: So that's the end of Lily's tale, for now. I hope you all enjoyed her character in this story and that this chapter didn't make you (too) sad. Please leave reviews on what you hope to see now that Hermione is going to have a bigger part in the story! Next chapter will be the second half of Hermione's departure and should also be noted as the last chapter of little-girl Hermione.**

**"... no charge." ***

**"Hermione is only a child!" ****


	10. Chapter Eight

**CHAPTER EIGHT**  
_Youth is never wasted on the young._

* * *

_-The Weasley's Inn, Montfeurmeil-_

After the young Weasley girl is sent back upstairs as well, Sirius is alone with the Weasley matriarch and her husband. The two of them are seated across the table, red-haired and weary. Sirius is glad that these two were the ones to care for Hermione, and feels gratitude towards them for taking her in even though they already had trouble feeding their own.

"Lily passed away this evening," he says in a low tone, so he will not be overheard by the two girls. "She was attacked by a Death Eater -"

"And you tried to defend her!" Molly Weasley exclaimed softly in wonderment, obviously drawing her own conclusions of the evening's events. "Is that how you were wounded?"

Sirius hesitates. It is not too far from the truth, he thinks. Snape might as well have been a Death Eater. "Yes."

Molly seems to want to say more, but Arthur, her husband, stops her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Take good care of Hermione for us," he says simply.

Sirius stands, pulling on his robes, which flicker between midnight and twilight colors in the glow of the candles. "I will, thank you." His gaze drifts across the shabby room as he removes a bag of money from his pockets. "Please -"

"Oh no, we couldn't -"

"- accept this as payment for Hermione's care," Sirius finishes sharply, leaving no room for argument. "Since Lily wasn't able to. This is what she would have wanted."

"Thank you," Arthur Weasley murmurs, eyes downcast.

"No, thank you for taking care of Hermione."

* * *

Hermione lugs her suitcase down the stairs. It is not too heavy for her, but it is bulky, which means she pulls it down each step with a loud 'thump!'. When she reaches the bottom the man - her mother and father's friend - is waiting for her.

"_Au revoir_, Hermione!" Molly Weasley wails softly. "We'll see you again, I'm sure! Be safe!" Madame Weasley envelopes Hermione in a bone-crushing hug as Hermione squirms in a futile attempt to breathe.

"Do you want to say goodbye to Ginny? I think she was pretty upset," M. Weasley says as she hugs him next, his spectacles sliding sideways on his face.

Hermione bites her lower lip, feeling sad at leaving the smiling girl who was her first and only friend. She opens her suitcase and pulls out the book of fairytales. "Please give this to Ginny," she says seriously to the Weasleys, holding it out in her small hand. "I want her to have it." She'll miss the book, yes, but she's going to miss Ginny even more.

"Thank you, Hermione. I'm sure she'll love it," says M. Weasley.

Hermione gives the couple a half-wistful smile. "_Au revoir et merci._ For taking such good care of me."

**T**his starts Madame Weasley to tears, and Hermione offers her one last hug before she allows herself to be led away by the tall, mysterious man.

* * *

Hermione is silent inside the fiacre for a while, but when she does speak her tone is very adult, even though she couldn't have been more than five years old. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name, monsieur?"

Sirius is unsure how to answer, since he currently has no name to tell her. "You can call me Snuffles?" he offers lamely.

"Like a pet?" Hermione wrinkles her brow.

"Yes, sort of. Except I look after you instead," he pokes her shoulder. This produces the desired result, and she giggles, a happy sound.

"You know my mother?" she asks.

Sirius digs through his pockets to pull out his most treasured items aside from his silver candlesticks. He offers Hermione a small pile of photographs, on the top of which is a picture of James and Lily clipped from the Daily Prophet. "This is your mum and dad, shortly after they were married." He does not include the fact that the article that this photo had originally been attached to was the James' obituary.

Hermione cautiously takes the first one from him, examining the picture with studious intent before glancing up at the rest with greedy eyes. He passes them to her: him and James at Quidditch; at their graduation; the two of them sharing a flat in London. Sirius regrets that he does not have any more pictures of Lily to offer her.

"Hermione," he starts softly, unsure how to broach the topic. "There's something I have to tell you about your mother."

She's still absorbed in the photograph, so Sirius reaches out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What?"

He bites his lip, then releases it. "She was attacked by a very bad man today. your mother was taken to the hospital, but she wasn't - she didn't -"

Hermione's eyes have filled with tears.

"- she died doing her best to bring you to Montreuil-sur-Mer with her. I only wish I could have done more ..." Sirius feels himself holding back a sudden swell of emotions. "Your mother is with God, Hermione," he gives her a half-smile, "with the angels."

Hermione grabs his hand and slides her small, chubby one inside it, sniffing as the tears slide down to drip from his chin. Sirius squeezes it gently before pulling her across to lie on his lap, stroking her hair.

* * *

They travel for another quarter of an hour, just like that, before Hermione breaks the silence.

"What makes a picture move?" she asks quietly, as she touches her father's smiling face lightly. Part of Sirius marvels at the fact that she is trying to change the subject. "The pictures in my books don't move, but these ones do, and Ginny's pictures do."

"It's magic," he tells her, and her interested look brings another half- smile to his lips. "Do you want to see?"

"Yes," she breathes curiously, trying to wipe the miserable tears from her cheeks. "How does it work?"

"Alright. How about I magic you a doll?" Sirius rummages in his bag and pulls out a wooden cube, one that he now specifically carried with him for Transfiguration purposes after the Jean's accident at the well.

"Can I have a cat instead?" Hermione asks shyly sitting up slightly. "I've always wanted a pet."

"A cat it is," he agrees. "Now, watch carefully."

Obediently, Hermione leans forward and stares so hard at the little box that her gaze becomes crossed and her cheeks go pink.

"Perhaps not too carefully," he adds, and she blushes darker before shifting back slightly.

Sirius points his wand at the cube, concentrating, and after a while a cat begins to form. Orange-furred and stripy, he hands it over to a now happier Hermione.

"Did my mum know magic?" she questions next.

"No, she didn't."

"I thought so," Hermione replies smartly. "Or else she would have made me lots of cats." She pets her toy's head. "His name is Crookshanks."

"Hello, Crookshanks," Sirius greets the toy, which watches with blank eyes. The fiacre hits a dip in the road and it jolts him back to their surroundings. Glancing out the window for a minute, he turns back to Hermione. "We should be far enough away now." He signals the driver for them to stop.

"Where are we going?" Hermione inquires.

"Paris, have you heard of it? There are plenty of nice shops and homes there for us."

"Oh, Paris is in one of Ginny's books. It's really pretty. Tres belle," she adds in French.

"Bien," Sirius helps her out of the carriage and sets her on the ground, making a note to buy her new shoes as soon as possible.

After paying the driver and retrieving their luggage, he grips Hermione's hand, kneeling in front of her. "We're going to travel the magical way. So hold on tight while I pick you up."

She nods and he seizes her around the waist, lifting her to shoulder level. Hermione's short arms wrap around his neck.

"You might feel a little dizzy, but just think of it like a carriage ride. If you want, you can hold your breath, I've heard it helps during the first time."

"Ready!" she exclaims, before sucking in a huge gulp of air, giving her the appearance of a chipmunk.

Sirius closes his eyes and spins on the spot, the night swallowing them both.

* * *

_-Somewhere in Paris-_

Somewhere outside lurks a dark shadow of a man in an alleyway. Vermin scurry past, making way to the sewer Parisian system. The Dark Lord has fallen, and after avenging the death of his body it is now time to disappear once more. It was upon meeting Bellatrix Black that he had gleaned this valuable information: that their Lord had taken steps in ensuring his return. It was not known how, or where, but it was known nonetheless. Bellatrix warned him that those who did not keep faith would be punished, and he took the warning well.

Eliminating Lily Granger was a means to an end. The child, he is sure, is now with Sirius Black, unreachable and untouchable. He had known he would only have one chance to attack his targets unprotected, and now he must wait for another day. This will be the proof he brings the Dark Lord when he returns; Lily Granger's death. A worthless Muggle who had married into a Pureblood family and produced half-blood spawn.

The wind howls nearby, but the solid brick wall shields the man from its harsh touch.

In a fiery, smoldering pile at his feet lay a black cloak and white mask. The breeze begins to die as the shadow shrinks down in its shimmering light.

No one notices as the new rat slips into the sewers.

* * *

_-Wizarding Britain-_

In another country wizards and witches are celebrating the downfall of You-Know-Who, cheering the name of the Boy-Who-Lived, a Muggle-born wizard who had been given to a wizarding family after his birth parents had abandoned him. Of the four people in the Longbottom household, only two young boys had survived: Harry Evans and Neville Longbottom.

* * *

**AN: Sort of had to budge around the last names, you see. Next up: my completely different version of Hermione's education. This chapter is still a teensy bit iffy for me, so know that nothing here is completely concrete. If I change anything, I will let you know at the beginning of the next chapter.**


	11. Chapter Nine

**CHAPTER NINE**  
_The Boy-Who-Lived and The-Girl-Who-Hid._

* * *

_-Wizarding Britain, 1824-_

The prophecy had been made by one Sybil Trelawney in the midst of a crowded bar. Everyone within and few feet had heard it, for the voice of a Seer was powerful enough to counteract even the strongest of magics.

_'Given to those who have thrice defied him; given as the winter solstice dawns. The one who will oppose the Dark Lord approaches swiftly. This one will battle the darkness within to find light. Born as the Dark Lord's equal, this one will suffer the consequences and see them all into battle, where they will perish for the Greater Good.'_

It was only too easy to track down the only magical orphanage in Wizarding Britain. All of the Muggle-born children who had been abandoned by their Muggle parents were being extricated to safe houses and magical families, one of them being the Longbottom family.

Supposedly a well-kept secret, news still leaked that the Longbottoms were set to welcome a young boy into their family. Albus Dumbledore set the wards on their home, and performed the Fidelius Charm to protect them and the newest addition to their family.

Selene Lovegood had been the Secret Keeper for Frank and Alice Longbottom.

Selene and Alice had been best friends during their time at Hogwarts, and their friendship had only gotten stronger over time. Xeno and Selene had been named the godparents of Alice and Frank's first child, Neville, and would have been given the same honour for their adopted son, Harry, if the Longbottoms had not perished before they were able to do so. Frank and Alice were similarly given the title of godparents for Xeno and Selene's own girl, Luna.

A kind and gentle soul, Selene would have ever only sought the protection of those she loved, and it was with this in mind that Albus Dumbledore had agreed to make her Secret Keeper of the Longbottom home.

Only a week after Selene had been made Keeper the Death Eaters took her. She never would have given the address willingly - Lord Voldemort knew this. Selene was far too loyal to her friends and family to betray them.

So they filled her with potion and destroyed her psyche until Selene forgot who she was, let alone why she kept the Longbottom address locked within the deep recesses of her mind.

Tom Riddle went to the Longbottom house alone on that dark winter's eve. The wards were no protection from a dark wizard as skilled as he. The parents, skilled Aurors they were, died quickly. Alice Longbottom had knelt before the two boys' beds and begged for their lives.

Young Harry Evans had only been delivered that day; after numerous visits to the magical orphanage where he had been kept. Alice and Frank had both adored the little boy with the knobby knees.

He'd been delivered to their home the same night Sirius had taken Hermione to live with him - the first night of the winter solstice.

* * *

_-Wizarding Britain, 1825-_

Relations between the wizarding and Muggle communities had become increasingly strained. The celebration of the Dark Lord's downfall had seen witches and wizards alike blatantly exposing magic in front of Muggles. The backlash was fast and numerous, the witch- and wizard-burnings many. It had fallen to the Ministry to try to persuade the British King to restore order.

The Marriage Law was put into effect. Those with magical blood, or related by blood or marriage to those with magical blood, would not longer be permitted to marry Muggles. New Anti-Muggle laws prevented contact with Muggles outside of the bare necessities. Failure to comply with the Marriage Law meant the guillotine (in the case of the Muggles) or incarceration in Azkaban (in the case of those with magical blood).

At first, it was seen as an forbidden love affair; a secret love tryst between two star-crossed lovers. Death and imprisonment for falling in love? How tragic and exciting!

The Ministry was only too quick to put its foot down, however grimly.

In the first few months that followed, nearly five hundred people were sentenced, at varying degrees of offense.

The people simmered down, pulling away their wandering gazes and putting theirs heads down. Those who had been made into examples were paraded across newspapers and those who had something to hide were subject to scandalous gossip. King Louis-Phillippe saw the new order that had been established and instituted a similar proclamation with the help of the French Minister of Magic.

The subjects of France, however, were not so easily cowed, and whispers of unrest and rebellion brewed in the shadows. It would be during this time period that the first revolution would take place.

* * *

_-Paris, France, 1828-_

Life in Paris has settled down for Hermione and Sirius since they've adjusted to their new lives. Hermione enjoys the large selection of books procured for her by Sirius, who spares no expense for his god daughter. It has been four long years since Sirius escaped from the hospital and took Hermione under his wing.

Evenings are spent curled up in front of a warm fireplace reading Hermione's choice of books. Sirius is only too happy to comply with her wishes. Hermione is an extraordinarily well-behaved child, although they do get into brief debates about trivial things like bedtime. Sirius had watched the now nearly eleven-year-old (it turns out she had been older than his first estimate, and Sirius had spent some time assuring her she would in fact grow up tall,) girl carry herself like an adult, and part of him wanted to tell her not to grow up just yet.

It is on a cool summer night that there is a knock at the door. Sirius is in the middle of reading _Romeo and Juliet_ to Hermione, who is absolutely engulfed in the story. He smiles nervously at her disgruntled look in the face of the interruption.

"Stay here while I get the door," he tells her, drawing his wand. Sirius composes his features in order to appear calm. Hermione doesn't flinch, however; she is now used to this kind of cautious behaviour.

Peering carefully through the curtain, Sirius heaves a sigh of relief. It's Headmaster Dumbledore, with Fawkes the phoenix perched on his shoulder. While Polyjuice is always a possibility, it is frankly completely impossible to impersonate a phoenix. He undoes the lock on the door and removes some of the wards on it.

"Sirius," Dumbledore greets him fondly, looking much the same as he had those years ago when he had granted Sirius his freedom. "Or, should I say, 'Monsieur Fauchelevent?'" Sirius doesn't bother to ask how Dumbledore knows his new fake name, regardless of how Sirius had left it out of his letters during their infrequent correspondence. "I assume you know why I'm here."

It takes him a moment to figure it out. "Hermione," he says faintly. "But is her name not down for Beauxbatons?"

A merry twinkle dances in Dumbledore's eyes. "I may have pulled a few strings." (Meddling old man, Sirius thinks to himself.) "Hermione is on the Hogwarts list, now. Her current status is that of an orphan. I do believe you understand this is for your safety."

"You-Know-Who is long gone," Sirius protests. "The Boy-Who-Lived -"

"Voldemort is not dead," Dumbledore says. "And Harry Evans will be in terrible danger when he returns."

This stops Sirius cold. "And you want me to send Hermione to Hogwarts?" He takes a step back, allowing the wizard into the house. Sirius closes the door behind Albus and goes to replace the wards, but Dumbledore raises his own wand.

"Allow me." Sirius does, and Dumbledore casts a number of non-verbal spells.

"Snuffles? Papa?" Hermione calls, "Are you done yet? Can we finish _Romeo and Juliet_ now?"

"Not quite. I have a visitor for you," Sirius smiles, stepping back into the living room.

"For me?" Hermione leaps up, beaming with rosy cheeks at the rare occurrence. "Who is it?"

"He's a friend your father's; he used to be his teacher."

The girl's eyes widen. "He teaches magic? Do I get to go learn too? You said perhaps I could attend Beauxbatons -"

"This is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. He teaches at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Sirius continues evasively.

"Hello, Hermione," Dumbledore holds out a hand, which Hermione clasps eagerly and shakes firmly.

"Hullo, Headmaster Dumbledore," Hermione squeaks.

"I was just talking with, ah, Snuffles about the possibility of you attending Hogwarts."

"Really?" She traipses over to Sirius, endless curiosity evident in her face. "Can I go? I want to go! You and father went to learn magic there, and I want to too! Please? I'll write every day, I promise. I'll get good grades and everything!"

Sirius can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be the brightest witch of your age, Hermione."

"So can I go?" she asks cautiously.

Sirius rakes a hand through his thinning hair. He doesn't want her to go; this little ray of sunshine who burst into his life and planted herself firmly in his heart.

"Hogwarts is the safest place considering the unrest in the streets," Dumbledore says softly. "You needn't worry about that. Professor McGonagall is still teaching. No doubt you remember her."

"Yes," he sighs, "I do. Put James and I in detention more often than not."

"Please?" Hermione hedges, blinking puppy eyes at him.

"Alright," he throws his hands up. "I can sense when I'm losing an argument."

"Hoorah!" Hermione cheers, tackling her godfather in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you! _Merci beaucoup_!"

Sirius pats her bushy brown hair. "Hoorah," he echoes.

* * *

**AN: Bittersweet ending here. Next is most likely Hermione's seven years of Hogwarts in either letter form or a quick summary from Sirius' POV. I have yet to decide. In case of confusion, I'd like to just clarify that I deliberately wrote the prophecy to be ambiguous; it could refer to Harry or Hermione. Who it actually refers to will be my secret until the time is right. :) As school is starting soon, I'd like to remark that updates might come a bit slower. ****Please review!**


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